The Final Curtain
by tlrtd89
Summary: 47 is sent to NYC to assasinate an official of the US Treasury with a sinister plan to devastate the western world. The time limit on this contract...2 hours, at a production of the Scottish play, 'Macbeth'...
1. Default Chapter

The Final Curtain

By Com&Con89

Disclaimer: I don't own Hitman or Agent 47, which is a shame. He's only a piece of imagination, product of IO interactive and Eidos interactive. Lucky them.

Author Note In certain parts of this fic, this symbol: # will be placed next certain words. An explanation of said word be placed at the bottom of the chapter

I would like to thank my brother, author Rhys Davies for beta-reading. If you're into Gundam Wing, Transformers or Teen Titans try his work, IT'S ALL GOOD!

Chapter 1: Briefing 

Night-time in New York doesn't mean that the big apple sleeps. All of its varied types of nightlife actually reawaken and refresh Manhattan Island from the stress of day-to-day work.

The movies attracting all the people to see the new blockbusters from Hollywood, Bollywood and Pinewood, Broadway drawing hundreds of people to pleasure themselves with the latest musicals and plays. Rap battles pulling the fans to see their favourite small time or chart buster run away with imagination and music. The Subway would get a new coat of graffiti from an army of teens.

So New York was naturally busy. And the touring Royal Shakespeare Company was taking its toll on traffic in Times Square. Over a Thousand people were heading to see the latest production of Macbeth.

In the crowd of joyous theatregoers, queuing outside the George Washington Dramatics Theatre, one man waited and watched.

The said man was sitting outside a small restaurant, his sharp blue eyes poking just above his menu, watching the queue for Macbeth slowly progress, occasionally flicking his eyes towards the crowd and matching it with a photo pinned under his empty plate. The photo was a white man in his early 50's. He had greying brown hair, along with a full beard, also greying.

A lax and somewhat board waiter drew up to the table.

'Are you ready to order, sir?'

The man pulled down his menu. It was agent 47.

'Yes I am thank you. I'll have the pork sirloin steak, done medium and a green salad. To drink, some Mineral water please.'

'Excellent choice, sir. That comes up to 19.98. The service is pay as you go sir. Cash or credit card?

47 rummaged around in his pocket, pulling out a ten-dollar note. He dug deeper, pulling out two quarters. 47 looked surprised, empty pocket.

'Damn' He muttered 'Don't have enough loose change.'

47 took the briefcase he had by his side and opened it. The sight that the student waiter saw was dazzling, and a whole new edge to his dull Friday job.

Inside the suit was 47's briefing, and beneath that laid several thousand dollars. All wrapped in 10-dollar note bundles. 47 broke one pack and took out 2 ten-dollar notes and handed them to the waiter. He paused for a moment and took out another note.

'Here's a tip.'

The waiter looked awed at the case of money, dreaming of brisk breeze to whip up and send the money flying into his arms. 47 gave a brief cough. The waiter came out of his trance

'Thank you sir'.

The waiter promptly left 47 to himself.

'This night better go well' 47 thought. 'Or that kid's tip would be useless.'

Taking a look around, he took his briefing to read though again for a third time in the hour.

From: 15/10/05

Re: Anderson hit

You're needed in New York for this one 47. We have been contracted by a high figure in the United States mint. It appears that a Peter Anderson, a senor member of the Philadelphia processing plant is planning to place ten billion US dollars on the market. With so many surplus notes, the value of the dollar will drop to a dangerous low and affect other national currencies. This would result in hyperinflation and a world depression that can surpass 1929.

Upon researching Anderson, it turns out that he is a high member of an unknown organisation and is under near constant guard. A few months ago he sparked the NSA's interest when he was spotted at a meeting of Neo-Nazis. We have supplied to you a summarised background of Anderson, which we hacked from a recently reopened NSA/CIA joint file, dormant since the mid 1970's. It seems that his father was Herman Von-Braun, a true Nazi and member of the SS (Hitler's elite soldiers). He was posted to a Polish death camp in spring 1944. When the Soviets advanced towards the camp in late 44', he left the camp along with some Jewish prisoners for Germany. When the war ended in 1945, he was captured by US marines and was prepared for trail at Nuremberg for Nazi war crimes. He and several other prisoners escaped from Landsberg Fortress# and left Europe on the Aquitania#, posing as immigrants. Von-Braun renamed himself Paul Anderson and settled down on the East Coast with a fellow Nazi escapee, Beth Kerry and set up as an accountant. In December 1946, Beth gave birth to Peter Herman Anderson. It seems that his parents raised their son as a Nazi. Paul Anderson was secretly executed in 1961 when he tried to assassinate President Eisenhower, posing as a Soviet spy he hoped to trigger a war. Beth and Peter were monitored closely until 1977, when Beth died of breast cancer. The NSA closed the Anderson file, concluding that Peter was no Nazi, as he held a position in the US mint and had good connections with the Secretary of the Treasury.

With the file reopened, CIA Director James Greer has made it clear that Anderson must not be pulled in, as he his now a close friend of the Secretary of the Treasury.

After pulling in some favousr that we're owed, we have found he that he placing his forged notes on the streets tomorrow, so the hit must take place now. To celebrate he's attending the opening night of the RSC's play Macbeth at the George Washington Dramatics Theatre in Broadway, New York. We have an informant at the theatre, just ask for a reserved ticket under the name John Vattic. You'll be seated next our informant. His code name is Victor Grienko.

It is of most importance that you assassinate Anderson; otherwise your advance payment would buy you near nothing.

Good Luck 47.

47 thought for a moment.

'Another target with plans to affect the western world, a classic. And it's all up to Mr. Grienko and me to stop them. First, we have the Fuchs crime family with WMDs, now Neo-Nazis with finance.'

Time passed. 47 watched the queue move slowly.

47's food came unnaturally quick. Obviously, the tale of the vast briefcase of money had spread to the kitchen, with 47's meal given top priority in hope of more tips…just as he planned.

For the first time in a long while, 47 was enjoying something else while out on a contract. Usually, he would get in, silence the target(s) and get out. But what better way to pass time than a good meal. He felt at ease with himself. Being a well-known and respected underground assassin was not so easy with guards continually unloading firearms on you. Having the lives of a whole city resting on your shoulders. Such a relaxing meal was liberating for 47.

By the time 47 finished his meal, the queue for Macbeth had grown short.

'It's ok' 47 said under his breath 'He hasn't arrived yet. He's not going to say in the open too long for assassins. Either that or I've missed him while eating.'

Just as 47 said this, a black Volkswagen pulled up to the entrance. The sound of the engine being turned off caught 47 ears. As he looked up, the front and back driver-side doors opened, and three giants of men emerged. All were wearing formal suits with, 47 noted, slight bulges on the shoulders. Holsters. The last occupant to leave out of the rear driver side looked back in the car and spoke to a figure within. The final person got out of the car. 47 gave a satisfied smile. It was Anderson. His target.

Anderson looked around, slightly nervous about being in the open so close to the implementation of his plan, it could still go wrong were he to die or be arrested on this night. In the morning, he would sign the forms to place his ten billion dollars on the market, and throw the whole world money system into chaos. Feeling the need to check for any spying government agent, his small sky-blue eyes darted around the street. At the restaurant across the way, there was no-one watching him, just a bald man wearing a suit walking away with a suitcase. Feeling satisfied with the area, he turned towards the main entrance with two of his guards. The third got back in the car and drove away down the street.

47 had nearly given the game away. He nearly let Anderson see him. 'Stupid!' he thought. 'Got too relaxed'

47 saw Anderson's car pass him. He watched the German car turn down an alley which lead to the theatre's stage entrance. 47 himself turned down another alley to his rented Ford Ka. Pressing the unlock button, the Ka greeted him with a pleasant bleep and flash of lights. Opening the boot, 47 placed his case of money inside, before taking a whole wad of money. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see if there was anyone watching him. He opened up the other case in the boot. Inside was one of his 45mm Sliverballer pistols, with the silencer placed alongside. Smirking at the sight of his trademark gun, 47 closed the case. With his weapon of choice now beside him, he was a complete killer again. He closed the Ka's boot and started heading back towards the theatre.

'Time to do what I'm paid for.'

End of Chapter 1

Author Notes:

**Landsberg Fortress:** Landsberg Fortress is located outside Munich, Southern Germany. This is where Adolph Hitler and other leading Nazis were imprisoned after a attempted Coup against the German Government in 1923. During that time, he wrote his autobiography, Mein Kampf (My Struggle). He was released after 9 months in Landsberg. Within 11 years, he was the Fuhrer of Germany, with COMPLETE power.

**Aquitania:** The Aquitania was one of the symbolic ships of British Maritime Supremacy. Unlike the Titanic, which had a life span of 4 years from construction to Winslet & DiCaprio, Aquitania spent 37 years crossing the Atlantic. Towards the end of her life she was used as a WW2 troop transport, a immigrant ship and a War Bride transport. Her scrapping in 1950 saw the end of the glory days of Edwardian British shipping, as she was one of the last of her kind.


	2. Contact

Disclaimer: I don't own Hitman

Sorry about the wait. Why? Because I'm so happy! Why!

A: Because you good readers make my happy!

B: Wales won the Six Nation Rugby League for the first time in 27 years! (Unbeaten may I add.) Even against the World Campaigns, England, who we beat for the first time in 8 years! The now famous Gavin Henson scored the winning conversion in the last seconds! We beat Ireland for the first time in 22 years at home! We hammered Italy! Scotland brushed aside! We beat the reigning champions France by a matter of few points!

C: I've got Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater (Finished 5 times in 3 weeks and 1 day)

I would like to Thank:

Cheeseinacan: My first reviewer. As with the background info, I'm studying History for my GCSE's (my big exams next year). And when you have a brother like mine (a bookworm) you know these things.

Les enfant: Thanks for pointing out my error. Because I don't own the Hitman game (I rented Contracts from a friend) I can't remember. But isn't 47's pistol a Sliverballer?

DarkSpade3: Thanks for the review. The money issue. Since I published Chapter 1, the guy in charge of Britain's finances announced his budget. It was hoped that he would have between 2-10 billion Pounds spare. From now on people, the 10 billion dollars is (hold little finger next to mouth) _ONE TRILLION DOLLARS!_

One more thing: Now on, explanations for certain words will be in **bold**.

On with the story!

Chapter 2: Contact

47 couldn't say that the George Washington Dramatics Theatre was just your average theatre. He had seen them all during his contracts. He had seen London, Vienna, Prague, Venice and Paris. Many a time, the sheer quality of the architecture had awed him. From the Great Pyramid to the Millennium Dome, he had seen it. The GWDT was something to add to this somewhat-odd list.

The giant rectangular shaped entrance hall had a **Gustav Dore** feel to it. The scale of the hall was vast, with the room seeming endless, thanks to two floor to roof mirrors, adding illusory size to the room. Dark, muted, fading and contrasting colours completed the scheme, with blacks, whites, greys and dabs of gold and red blood adding…flavour. Wooden carvings of foul creatures looked over the public, blacked by the hanging gas lit candles they once held. At the rear of the room, a woodworm-riddled grand staircase split into two, curving and ascending towards the balcony and private boxes. A grand, decaying chandelier hung over a modernised three aisle box office which conflicted with the hall, it's flat roof littered by pieces of the chandelier. The overall look of the room reminded 47 of Stanley Kurbuck's '_The Shining_ and Joel Schumacher's '_The Phantom of the Opera.'_

47 naturally thought the theatre was past its prime.

He started walking towards the central aisle at the box office. A middle aged clerk greeted him.

'Welcome to the George Washington Dramatics Theatre sir. How can I help you?

'Pre-booked ticket for John Vattic?'

The clerk tapped away at a 1982 Apple Computer. After a tired buzz from the computer, 47's details came up and an even older printer produced a ticket.

'Yes, Mr. Vattic, you're seated in box 12. That would be 125.'

47 broke his new wad of money and paid the clerk the absurd amount of money. After being handed his change, the clerk continued.

'Take the stairs, turn left and follow the signs after the bar.'

'Thank you' 47 replied.

47 left the box office, moving to the information desk at the side of the stairs to look at the programmes. As he approached the desk, he heard the sound of a toilet door opening to his left and, shifting his eyes towards the door, was taken with sudden shock. It was Anderson and his guards. Alerted by his presence, 47 picked up a programme, and turned away from Anderson. Believing themselves unnoticed, Anderson and his companions started climbing the stairs, and turned right at the split.

As 47 lowered the programme, he felt lucky again. It seemed that Anderson still wasn't suspicious of him. Finally looking at the page he'd opened the programme on, he studied the cast list.

'Hmm. Patrick Stuart, Ben Kingsley, and Ian McKellen. All the best of the A-list Shakespearian actors. They are pulling the strings to counter this foul place. Should be a good play.'

He paid the attendant for the programme, and started heading up the stairs. As he took the left split, he looked up at a carving and thought that it looked oddly like Ron Perlman from _'Hellboy'_

At the top of the stairs, 47 found himself in a bar. The counter was placed in the far right corner. Again with demonic carvings on the wooden panelling. A balcony stood opposite the bar, looking over the street. In front of the bar were the stair leading to 47's box. Above the stairs a sign denoted: 'Boxes 10-20'

47's mind flicked over to his contact with Mr Grienko. The name without a doubt was Russian. The last time 47 had a Russian contract was in Siberia while going after the Fuchs. Could it be a Russian, or just a guise?

47 ascended up the stairs. At the top, an attendant was clicking the tickets. 47 handed his ticket over. The clicker did his job and directed 47 towards his box.

While walking down to his box, 47 noted that the 2 boxes that he passed had doors. Judging by the condition of the rest of the theatre, it would seem unlikely that the door hinges had been oiled. So just walking in for Anderson wasn't an option, unless he wanted to be greeted by two armed guards. He had to formulate a plan.

As he turned into box 12, he saw that the box had a single opponent. Mr. Grienko. His back was turned away from 47. All that 47 could make out that his contract had black hair.

Grienko spooked up.

'Good evening, Mr Vattic'

The voice that greeted 47 wasn't Russian, as the name would suggest. It was American. 47 grew a smile; it came clear whom his contact was. It was the agency's contact on the east coast. Countless times he had helped him on 'business'. 47 took the unevenly padded seat next to him.

'Glad to see you 47'

'The feeling is mutual Jack'

'No names here 47. Greer will not approve.'

'That's the beauty of it Dr. Ryan'

Dr. **Jack Ryan** was an agent of CIA, with many excursions to the former USSR under his belt and was one of Deputy Director of Intelligence Greer's top agents and favourite to take Greer's position when he retired.

'Where's the target?'

'Box 5, centre seat'

47 placed a dollar into the opera glasses case and put the lenses to his eyes. There was his target, Anderson.

Jack was enraged 'Damn Anderson. He's the last person I would have guessed to be a Nazi'

'You know what they say Jack, it's always the one you least suspect'

'Yes, I know. But I've meet him after the **SALT** conference which followed the **Baltimore blast**...he seemed a decent guy, but now it turns out he's a National Socialist, wanting to cock up the Western world with his trillion dollars.'

'What weapons do we have?'

'A collapsible W2000 sniper rifle with a silencer is in the out of order men's toilet cubical on the ground floor. It's in a suitcase placed in the empty cistern. Anderson is wearing armour, so I've included Teflon coated rounds.'

Looking through the glasses 47 saw his two guards, both sitting close to Anderson..

'The guards are armed. Any idea on what weapons they have?'

'Currently they're carrying fibre wire and non-lethal rubber firing SOCOMS. The Volkswagen has been parked round the back entrance with the last guard. Two M4 assault rifles are in the trunk along with a dozen flash bang grenades and a nerve gas canister.'

Lowering the glasses, 47 turned to Jack.

'Nerve gas?'

'Don't worry; it's only knock out gas. But enough the keep the theatre sedated for a hour'

'Anderson himself?'

'Nothing. And in his current condition, he can't harm a fly'

'Condition?'

'He has a heart disorder. One of his valves in his heart is inflated, so he can't do much physical work before wearing himself out. Get rid of his guards, and he's dead in the water. Any questions?'

'Yes. How did you know all that and where did they get the weapons?'

'I'm not the only man on this assignment 47. **Sam Fisher** infiltrated the Nazi's base of operations a fortnight ago and copied some of the files on their computer. He found that these guys have a contact inside a National Guard Depot. And the heart thing, he printed off Anderson's whole medical. He also found some sensitive files. Currently, those files have been given to CIA, MI6, Interpol, the lot. Nearly every intelligence agency in the Western world know these files now.'

'On what?'

'Later 47, maybe after this.'

'Tell me Jack. What is it with this place?'

'The GWDT? They say it's cursed. In the mid 30's, a play of Macbeth was shown. You know Macbeth is known as 'The Scottish Play' because speaking the title aloud is bad luck to actors and can being down a curse?

'Yes'

'It's said an exorcism was carried out before hand. They believe the Catholic Priest who carried it out messed up. The man who played Macbeth died of a heart attack during the Banquo ghost scene. An EL train crushed his replacement. Macbeth 3, gangland shooting. Macbeth 4, Smallpox. Macbeth 5, indigestion. After the play stopped airing at the GWDT the events ceased. But ever since the theatre has been in decline.'

47 took it in. A curse? That was a new one.

'You might never know Jack, that curse could get Anderson for me'

'Maybe 47. Maybe'

47 looked away from Jack. Rested his chin on his left knuckles. He looked down on the audience in the stalls.

'Its down to me' 47 thought. 'If I fail…God knows what will happen'

Pulling out of a thoughtful pause he turned back to Jack.

'Are you going to help me get Anderson?'

'Me? No, I'm no **Dirk Pitt**. I'm just an analyst.'

'Your file says differently.'

'I was a tool of the politicians, who change with the times, and the times change with them. If you read my file beyond 1991, you'll find that I'm once again a desk jockey'

The lights dimmed as the play began. As this happened the crackling voice of a theatre attendant boomed over the PA.

'Good evening ladies and Gentlemen and welcome to the premier of the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Macbeth. May we remind you to turn off your mobile phones and…'

As voice continued the usual requests, Jack leaned over to 47

'Enjoy the Scottish play, 47'

'I'll enjoy the mission'

47 got out of his seat and turned away.

'See you around Jack. Say hi to Cathy and Sally for me.'

'Will do 47. Will do'

End of Chapter 2

Author Notes:

**Gustav Dore: **Dorewas the man who drew the pictures for the book 'Paradise lost'. They show the angels of Heaven banishing Lucifer (The Devil) and his dark angels to hell. In the film 'Ghost Ship' you see portraits on the ship derived from Dore's work and if they worked for the Antonia Graza they can work for me.

**Jack Ryan: **The bread and butter of international best selling author Tom Clancy. In this story, I imagine him as Alec Baldwin appeared when he played Jack in 'The Hunt for Red October'

**Sam Fisher:** Another product of Tom Clancy. Exclusively written for the international best selling stealth game series 'Splinter Cell'

**Dirk Pitt:** The bread and butter of international best selling author Clive Cussler

**SALT:** **S**pecial **A**rms **L**imitation **T**alks. This was an agreement between the USA and the former USSR, in which the rivals negotiated to cut back on Nuclear, Chemical and Biological weapons. SALT1 went well, in the middle of SALT2, the USSR invaded Afghanistan and negotiations fell apart. At the end of the move 'The Sum Of All Fears,' a SALT-like conference happened.

**Baltimore blast:** If you know your Tom Clancy novels, in 'The Sum Of All Fears' the fair city of Baltimore got blown off the face of Maryland, the USA, and Earth due to a Neo-Nazi Nuclear Bomb.

Thank you very much for reading people. Hope to see your reviews. Expect a long wait for the next chapter. I have a short attention span and what you have read is as far I have got (apart from the final chapter, which is finished)


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